“Going away!—­you going away?
Oh no! Redbud, you mus’nt; for you know
I can’t possibly get along without you, because
I like you so much.”

“Hum!” said Miss Lavinia, who seemed to
be growing more and more dissatisfied with the interview.

“I must go, though,” Redbud said, sorrowfully,
“I can’t stay.”

“Go where?” asked the boy. “I’ll
follow you. Where are you going?”

“Stop, Verty!” here interposed Miss Lavinia,
with dignity. “It is not a matter of importance
where Redbud is going—­and you must not follow
her, as you promise. You must not ask her where
she is going.”

Verty gazed at Miss Lavinia with profound astonishment,
and was about to reply, when a voice was heard at
the door, and all turned round.

CHAPTER III.

Introduces A legalPorcupine.

This was the voice of the Squire. It came just
in time to create a diversion.

“Why, there are my antlers!” cried the
good-humored Squire. “Look, Rushton! did
you ever see finer!”

“Often,” growled a voice in reply; and
the Squire and his companion entered.

Mr. Rushton was a rough-looking gentleman of fifty
or fifty-five, with a grim expression about the compressed
lips, and heavy grey eyebrows, from beneath which
rolled two dark piercing eyes. His hair was slowly
retreating, and thought or care had furrowed his broad
brow from temple to temple. He was clad with
the utmost rudeness, and resembled nothing so much
as a half-civilized bear.

He nodded curtly to Miss Lavinia, and took no notice
whatever of either Redbud or Verty.

“Why, thank for the antlers, Verty!” said
the good-humored Squire. “I saw Cloud,
and knew you were here, but I had no idea that you
had brought me the horns.”

And the Squire extended his hand to Verty, who took
it with his old dreamy smile.

“I could have brought a common pair any day,”
he said, “but I promised the best, and there
they are. Oh, Squire!” said Verty, smiling,
“what a chase I had! and what a fight with him!
He nearly had me under him once, and the antlers you
see there came near ploughing up my breast and letting
out my heart’s blood! They just grazed—­he
tried to bite me—­but I had him by the horn
with my left hand, and before a swallow could flap
his wings, my knife was in his throat!”

As Verty spoke, his eyes became brighter, his lips
more smiling, and pushing his tangled curls back from
his face, he bestowed his amiable glances even upon
Miss Lavinia.

Mr. Rushton scowled.

“What do you mean by saying this barbarous fight
was pleasant?” he asked.